


In Different Rooms

by FreshBrains



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Dom/sub, Kneeling, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5222108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>But he’s not weak</i>, Bucky thinks, and for a moment, the thought confuses him. What is submission if there is no weakness? That’s what it means to submit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Different Rooms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/gifts).



> For the LJ comment_fic prompt: _author's choice, author's choice, experimenting with a d/s relationship_.

The Winter Soldier lived to see people fall to their knees.

It was always a hollow pleasure, like he was simply programmed to enjoy it. Blood on his hands meant nothing but a mess, bullet holes across a wall meant he missed—but a person falling to the floor, body lax, eyes glassy? That was success. That was a mission accomplished.

With Steve (and _Bucky_ , not the Winter Soldier), it is still success, but of an entirely different brand. With Steve, there’s no armor, no weapons. Bucky’s face is bare and his eyes are clean, no masks or makeup getting in the way. And there’s Steve—bare, flushed, so much _skin_ instead of red-white-and-blue armor, chest heaving with exertion. There is no shield, there are no weapons.

Bucky drops his hand to the back of Steve’s neck. He’s soft there, the baby hairs damp with sweat, and Bucky rubs his thumb on the top notch of his spine. Steve closes his eyes, a shudder rippling through his shoulders.

(It would be so easy to press, to _snap_ …even with his flesh hand, Bucky has enough strength to kill Steve before he even opens his eyes).

“Please,” Steve murmurs, arching backwards. He wants pressure; he wants Bucky’s firm hand against his skin. His knees are pressed against the carpet, hands resting on his thighs—the perfect picture of submission.

_But he’s not weak,_ Bucky thinks, and for a moment, the thought confuses him. What is submission if there is no weakness? That’s what it means to submit.

Bucky’s cock throbs. He’s still in his underwear, sitting at the edge of the bed, while Steve is completely naked. “Do you…” he starts, voice a husky whisper in the quiet room. “Are you afraid?” _Of me?_ Bucky doesn’t say that part, but he knows Steve understands.

But Steve just locks eyes with him, head held high. “No,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “I’m not afraid.” His cock is hard, straining against his belly, but he doesn’t touch it. He’s strong, stronger than anyone Bucky has ever met.

“Good,” Bucky says, and twists his fingers in Steve’s hair, pulling him slowly but firmly towards his cock. Steve opens his mouth, eyes still trained on Bucky’s.

_Oh,_ Bucky thinks as his body fills with syrupy pleasure, as Steve’s warm, wet mouth envelopes his length. _This is not weakness. No, this is not weakness at all._


End file.
